The Chest

Chapter 1

Marian hated Guy of Gisborne.  She thought they had agreed to be friends since their reconciliation that night at Locksley Manor, but for now, she hated him.    He had neither acknowledged her nor even looked her way during the entire St. Anthony feast dinner, not that she could have spoken to him over the din. The castle hall was resplendent arrayed in colors of the fall harvest season.  Multiple torches and candles flooded the great room with light. Long colorful tapestries of hunting and harvest scenes decorated the gray stone walls.  The air, at first  fresh with the aroma of clean rushes on the stone floor and picked flowers on the tables, was now redolent with the smell of spilled wine, animal bones and unwashed bodies. She eyed him across the candlelit banquet table, whispering into the ear of that vicious Lady Beatrice.

Marian picked at the roasted fowl on her trencher. Her jolly dinner partner to the left, Lord Preston was prying words from the insipid Lady Primrose, food spraying from his mouth, and the Lady Anne, the termagant to her right, was intent on publicly correcting the manners of her cowed daughter. Lady Beatrice had glanced her way several times with a look of amused triumph on her sallow face, and demonstratively placed a possessive hand on Guy’s arm. 

Guy’s lips curled into a rare smile at his companion – a reaction to a cutting witticism, no doubt.  Marian could not remember when he had looked more appealing since that night at Locksley manor, his hair freshly washed and swept back to brush the nape of his neck lightly.  Shockingly, he wore the same black leather tunic he had donned for their aborted wedding.  How dare he! Why would he do that? Could he really get over her that easily? She glanced around the hall.  Surely the others had noticed too.  Yes, she had left him at the altar after he had lied to her about the king returning, but she had since offered him friendship.  Was he throwing the wedding back in her face? She certainly would never wear her own wedding dress again. She fingered the material of her own red gown which she had chosen because she had supposed him partial to that color of red. Her emotions roiled.  She should not be angry. Why should she care? She ought to be relieved that she no longer caught his interest.  Why would he not look at her?

The evening wore on and servants replaced her trencher with bowls of clotted cream and berries. Lady Beatrice’s laughter wafted over to Marian. She thought Beatrice’s flirtation a bit too forward, considering that Vasey expected her husband tomorrow. Would this evening never end?  She watched Guy take his companion’s hand and thoughts of their encounter at Locksley Manor intruded again. Why must she constantly think of that evening?

She caught the glance of the odious Sheriff, who watched her with a cruel gleam in his eye.  The wine tasted bitter in her mouth and Marian placed the goblet down none too gently.  A servant boy with a carafe appeared at her elbow and she curtly declined a refill.

“Lady Marian,” Vasey asked with a hint of meanness. “Is the wine not to your liking?”

The din dropped instantly. Marian inwardly whispered an oath.

“The wine is excellent, milord.  We have the best vineyards in the area.”

Vasey played with his goblet. “Yes, but harvest hasn’t been good this year. A bad harvest means less wine to sell.  And you know what that means. Less money in the royal coffers.  Prince John will be disappointed.”

Marian’s skin prickled in foreboding.  “It’s only by the grace of God that we have good harvests.  We can do about that.  I’m sure His Royal Highness understands.”

Vasey delicately set his cup down as if it were precious glass. He smiled maliciously, his fake tooth glinting.  “Well,” he said softly, “His Royal Highness understands there will be less money to fund his battles.  So the good people of Nottingham must do their share to make up the difference. We raise taxes tomorrow.”

“Sheriff, you know the villages have no more money to spare!”

Vasey spread his fingers as if he had all the patience in the world.  “I know if they work harder and saved for rainy days like this occasion instead of spending money on frivolous trinkets, we wouldn’t be in this position, would we?  But in honor of the feast of St. Anthony and to show my heart’s in the right place, I’ll delay the levy for one month.”

Vasey rose to his feet, raising his goblet.  “Again, my ladies, my lords, I welcome you all to Nottingham Castle, blah, blah, blah, there will be entertainment this evening.  Yes, I see the minstrels are in place so please, enjoy yourselves. Now, let’s toast Prince John’s health!”

Marian turned to Guy for some indication of the Sheriff’s intentions but Guy was already on his feet, joining the toast to Prince John before stooping to whisper again to Beatrice. Would he not look at her?

Marian rose herself, eager to get away and think.  Nodding farewells to her dinner partners, she swept across the hall, and right into the path of Beatrice.

“Hello Marian.”  Beatrice bared yellow pointy teeth. “You’re looking well.”

Marian wished she could say the same. Beatrice had to be at least thirty-five and vainly attempting to hide her age with curious looking powder and too much rouge.  “As do you.”  Guy wanted this woman?  And where was he?

“I see your father couldn’t attend.”

Marian’s smile tightened.  You know full well he’s in the dungeons, you bitch.  “Sadly no, but I’m sure he will attend the next festivities.  You and your husband must know how changeable things in Nottingham can be.”

Lady Beatrice’s smile sagged.  Her husband as the Sheriff’s accountant stood on quite shaky ground indeed. The last tax collection did not go well. “Yes, but some people are a bit more politically expendable than others.  Do take care.”  She swept away.

Marian reined in her temper as Beatrice traded pleasantries with other guests.  If Guy was not in her clutches, then he must have been called away by the Sheriff. She needed to talk with him.  She made her way slowly through the hall to the door and slipped out.

***

Marian’s bed chamber was small but adequately furnished.  It contained a wide four poster bed, a large cupboard with decorative handles, two plain chairs, and a small scarred but serviceable table by a large fireplace. A row of candles stood, ablaze, on the mantle.  A pot of freshly cut flowers added an inviting touch but the occupant noticed none of this.

Marian paced her room.  Where was Guy?  She needed to talk to him about the new tax. The villagers were already crushed under the outrageous taxes and one more might mean the difference for some between eking out a living and starvation.  When her father was Sheriff, he never would have countenanced such a measure. He would want her to intervene in some way.  Surely Guy could see that.  She had searched the castle all evening for him, but to no avail. Usually he sought her out, not the other way around.  In the end, she had to swallow her pride and ask one of the guards to summon him; she had no choice.  She knew she walked a fine line with Guy.  She needed to regain his trust in order to aid Robin and his gang while not rekindling his interest, not that the latter posed a problem now.  She would remind Guy of her steps to effect reconciliation between them, and hope that the bait of friendship combined with her appeal to his better nature, would move him to assist her.

She heard a sharp rap on the door.  Marian collected herself, rubbing sweaty palms on her skirt.  She bade him enter.

Guy crossed the threshold, regarded her for a moment, and closed the door.  Still dressed in the black leather tunic and sash that closely skimmed the lean outline of his body, he cut a dashing figure. Damn you Guy for wearing that tonight. Marian noticed in the candlelight his usual stubble was missing.  She swallowed; she had never seen him clean shaven.

He took a few steps and stood stiffly.  “You ‘summoned’ me, my lady?”

Marian paused, a bit surprised by his formal attitude. This conversation would more difficult then she thought.  “Guy, we need to talk.”

He arched a brow, indicating that she continue.

He was not going to make it easy.  “Guy, I thought we were going to be friends.”

Guy smirked, amused.  “As far as I know, we’re not enemies, Marian.”

“When I offered you reconciliation – friendship – this coolness is not what I had in mind.  We hardly talk and you’re not particularly – friendly.”

“I’ve been quite friendly in the past and that has not been to your liking.”

“Yes, but things were different then.”  Marian wrung her hands.  Where in the world was she going with this?

Guy frowned for moment, clearly puzzled. “I don’t understand.”

Marian regrouped.  “I meant things are different now.  There’s no need for us to be so distant with each other.”  What was she talking about?

Guy gazed at her appraisingly, eyes softening.  He took a few steps closer, forcing Marian to look up at him.  He was close enough for her to smell the scent of his soap.

“We’ve been through this before Marian, at Locksley.  Tell me what you really want.”

Marian sputtered, the same way she had that night, when Guy had stood half-clad before the fire, her reaction to his body blotting out everything else in the room but him. Her emotions churned. He stood tantalizingly close to her. Far too close.

She stepped back. “I-I just want friendship, like I said.”

Guy’s eyes shuttered.  “I see.  And what ‘friendship’ is it that you want?”

Marian felt relieved to find herself on firmer footing.  “You know the Sheriff plans a new tax.”

Guy turned away, laughing, and stared at the fire.  “The Sheriff.  The Sheriff can levy any tax he wants.”

“You know the villagers can’t take another tax.  They can barely feed themselves as it is.”

Guy turned back to Marian, his face closed and cold.  “That may be so but if the Sheriff levies another tax, it’s the law. And the law must be obeyed.”

“So you’d rather see innocent people starve to death or punish them for what they don’t have?”

Guy gripped the handle of his sword. “You know very well that there’s nothing I can do about it.  I’m duty bound to carry out the Sheriff’s orders.”

“Guy, I know you can be a man of compassion. You know it isn’t right.  You’ve got to help!”

Through clenched teeth, he spat out his reply. “If I don’t collect those taxes, it will be ‘my’ head. Who do you think I should choose, them or me? If I don’t, do you think somebody else won’t?”

Marian stared, flushed with rage and frustration. “So that’s it.”

Guy flung open the door. “You have my friendship, Marian. But you can’t ask the impossible.”  His lips twitched.  “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a guest to entertain.”



***

Marian had to act.  She lay staring at the shadows cast by the light from the candles, which played across the walls.  Anxiety gripped her too hard for her to sleep.  She needed Robin’s help, but he and the gang were away on a secret mission.  She chafed at his lack of trust.  He would not confide his whereabouts to her, nor most things although he expected honesty of her.  He expected a great many things of her, it seemed, including waiting years for him to be done with doing the king’s bidding so that he could marry her. 

As it stood, no marriage or even any future, lay in sight.  She wondered, not for the first time, how long he expected her to wait.  She wondered how long he expected to keep her in the dark about his missions.  Had he not been so secretive, she could have gone herself to his hideout, found the stash and taken what she needed to pay the new tax, but she has no clue where that lay hidden.  She beat her pillow in frustration.

She needed a plan now.  Her father could not help; he could not even help himself leave the dungeon.  She had no money of her own; she lived on the Sheriff’s largesse.  It pleased him to keep her and her father on the knife’s edge.  One slip, and they faced the executioner’s block. She had no relatives and no friends who she could trust.  Every nobleman vied for himself in this unstable country. 

Marian tossed and turned.  Who besides Robin had money at hand and enough to cover the tax shortfall?  She bolted upright.  Guy.  He had shown her at Locksley Manor.  While trying to impress her with his status, he had shown her luxurious fabrics, jewels, and most importantly, a gilded chest stashed full of gold coins.  If she could get to the chest and take an amount that he would not miss, she could save the villagers from the impact of another brutal tax. She felt no scruples about stealing; she assumed most of Guy’s money was mostly ill-gotten.  If anything, Guy would be giving back, albeit unknowingly, what he had taken.  She had to think of the greater good.  As for their friendship - well, she could not think about that now.  Besides, she knew he was less concerned with their friendship than with the comforts of a certain ‘guest’.

Marian lay awake into the small hours planning, before finally falling off to sleep.

Chapter 2

Marian gripped her basket as she made her way through the market, glancing warily over her shoulder, looking for signs of pursuit. She would have preferred a cloak, but it had been an unusually dry, warm, harvest season, and she had to make do with the plain, thin dress, so as not to attract attention.  The dust churned by animals and passers-by parched her throat.  Locksley would be a breath of fresh air even without the prospect of Guy’s chest waiting.  She ducked around back of a stall and lifted the cloth over her basket checking the bread, oils and wine she had brought for the sick. The basket also held an empty pouch for the coins.  She was ready.  She slipped through the market and around to the castle stable where her horse, Guy’s gift, awaited.

***

The sun beat down as Marian reached the small hamlet of Locksley. The collection of small thatched houses looked plain and dusty amid the wilted vegetation. Unusual heat had necessitated an early harvest. The peasants had saves what they could, but the yield was not bountiful.  They stopped to greet her, pulling a forelock or bobbing a curtsy as they prepared the harvests and re-thatched roofs for the coming winter. Underfed and overworked, some with clothes hanging on thin frames in tatters, they looked noticeably worse than when she had last come Even the few goats and cattle were sadly undernourished. Clearly she must return more frequently with food and garments.  She smiled and spoke everyone, calling each by name and inquiring after other members of the family.  She was her father’s daughter and would continue his traditions. Dismounting, she gazed about her.  The estate was strained under the Sheriff’s burden but still they held on.  She needed to ensure that.

Tim, the blacksmith’s son, ran out to stable her horse. The tall gangly boy smiled in relief.

“Morning, milady.  Sally will be needing your help.  Bill the Cobbler took bad last night. She doesn’t have enough herbs for a poultice.”

“Hello Tim!, I’ll join her shortly.”  Marian glanced at the door to Locksley Manor.  “Is the master about?”

As if on cue, the door opened and Guy emerged into the glaring fall sunlight. “The master is indeed about. Good morning, Marian.”

Marian nodded curtly, hiding her dismay. Why wasn’t he at the castle?  She observed that despite the heat, he was attired in his uniform: a tight black leather jerkin with silver stud fasteners and even tighter leather breeches. She tore her eyes away. Stay focused.  “Good morning, Guy.  I wondered whether you might be at the castle with the Sheriff.”

He smirked, squinting at her. “No, after last night’s -festivities, the Sheriff wouldn’t be in any shape to talk to anybody.  But no matter.  It gives me time to catch up on affairs here.”

Marian cursed inwardly.  She needed him away from the manor. 

“Since you’ve come all this way in the heat, may I offer you some refreshment?” Taking her basket, he motioned gallantly toward the cool dark interior.

Marian had no choice.  She had wanted friendship; he offered it now. To refuse would arouse his suspicions especially after her pleas of last night. Besides, a cool drink for her dry throat, and chair in a cool room sounded inviting. She pushed a lank lock of hair from her sweaty brow, nodded and entered the house.

***

Marian sat uncomfortably under Guy’s silent intent gaze. Thornton, once Robin’s steward but now serving Guy, brought a flagon of wine. The wine and coolness of the house did little to ease her discomfort.  Guy could be disconcerting at the best of times but this his present quietness  seemed unusual even for him.  Did he suspect? She had to think. She glanced around the small hall.  It felt empty containing only a large sturdy table with a bowl of fruit, plain chairs and rushes on the floor which were sorely in need of changing. No hangings or any decorative item graced the walls. It certainly was not as inviting as when Robin had lived here. Marian observed the two partially shuttered facing windows; what little light reached the middle of the room came from the open doorway.  The room cried out for small touches that would make it a home. She had not noticed that when she last visited here, and Guy had spread his wealth before her. She fingered the handle of the basket beside her.  Where would he keep the chest? In a cupboard? Upstairs in his room?

“Is something wrong, Marian?  You did ask about me.” Guy played idly with an apple, tossing it from hand to hand.

Marian decided to go on the offensive.  “No, I was simply curious of your whereabouts, considering your ‘guest’ last night.”

Guy looked up in genuine surprise. “Oh, you mean Lady Beatrice. It seemed her husband arrived last night ahead of schedule.”  He leaned back in his chair, amused.  “Marian, you wouldn’t be jealous, would you?”

Marian laughed. Was she?  “Of course not. I’m just concerned – as a friend, Guy. She’s a very treacherous woman. From what I hear, you’d be wise to watch your back.”

Guy flashed a rare smile.  “Well, words of advice from the young Lady Marian? This friendship of ours gets more interesting by the minute. Do you have more advice?”

Marian smiled in return. He was teasing her! She congratulated herself on her quick thinking.  Maybe the secret to achieving her goals required keeping Guy off balance.

“Marian –,“ Guy leaned forward again, an earnest look in his eyes. “Marian, about last night. I –“

One of Guy’s soldiers entered interrupting him. “Sorry milord but the Sheriff wants to see you.”

Guy rose impatiently, nodded and sighed. “Tell him I’m coming.”

Marian’s spirits soared.  Finally! With him away, she would be able to search at her leisure.

Guy led her out into the bright sunlight, handing her the basket.  “It seems the Sheriff has amazing powers of recuperation.  I am summoned.  Shall I escort you back to the castle?”

Marian demurred, anxious to start the search.  “No, I have things to take to Sally.  I hear the cobbler is poorly.”

Guy nodded. “Alright, I’ll wait.”

Marian felt rising panic. How could she be rid of him?  “No really, this might take some time. Mistress Belle is with child and close to her time. Sally may require my assistance.”

Guy’s soldier approached, leading a horse. Guy reached for the reins and mounted.  “Very well, I’ll leave you to it then.”  With a click to his stallion, he turned and galloped away.

***

Marian regained entry to the manor on the pretext of having lost an earring.  Thornton offered to look as well, which forced Marian to make a show of it. But when the cook called him away to respond to a crisis in the kitchen, she quickly made short work of searching the downstairs room.  The main room contained no cupboards or boxes big enough to hold the chest. He certainly would not hide it in the kitchen. He needed a place he could easily access.  She sneaked upstairs. 

In Guy’s bed chamber, two open windows admitted more light. A large unmade bed with a soft thick mattress filled most of the room.  An adjacent wall held a massive fireplace.  On the opposite wall, stood a tall oak cupboard with ornate carving around the doors.  Marian flung it open. There lay one or two extra shirts and breeches, all in black, and the luxurious fabrics intended for her trousseau.  For a man with wealth, he had few personal possessions. The chest was not there.  She entered a small side room.

Papers and ledgers from the Locksley estate lay strewn around the room, containing a small table, a chair, open dusty shelving holding small rolled documents and parcels, and a smaller plain cupboard. There on the floor inside sat the dark brass gilded chest- with a large padlock attached.

Marian groaned at her stupidity.  Of course Guy would have a key. He would not leave an open chest in his house for anybody to pillage.  Where would he hide a key? She quickly searched the room on the slight chance of finding one, but she knew better.  She had not encountered a key anywhere in the house.  There was only one place to store a key – on his person. Marian closed the cupboard and pressed her head to the doors.  How in the world would she get the key from Guy?  Things were getting tricky indeed.



Chapter 3

The beautiful brown mare, Chestnut, whinnied in disapproval as Marian’s brush found a knot in her mane.  Marian snapped out of her funk; she had been brushing too hard.  She made a few soothing noises and gently stroked the mare’s nose.  It’s okay girl.  The people of the castle bustled around her, with the servants moving about on their daily errands; the fragrant aroma of bread and fowl for dinner drifting from the kitchen. The stables had been newly mucked out and she could smell fresh straw. Its shaded courtyard afforded some respite from the sun.  She came to the stables often to groom her horse.  She found the motion relaxing and she could think, uninterrupted by the servants.  Certainly, she had much to think about.

A fortnight passed, she reflected, and yet she had not purloined the key. The Sheriff kept Guy away from the castle on frequent business. It gave her more time to plot how to get it from him but she still had no workable plan. Twice, Guy had been at the castle but had absented himself on a secret mission of his own.  She had had no chance to get him alone. The tax collection was to begin in a fortnight. She had to act.

Marian continued brushing Chestnut. Did Guy really have the key, or was it hidden here in the castle? She had searched his chamber there, but in that short time, had found nothing.  She had no idea where Guy was or what to do when she got him alone. Lost in thought, she again pondered a scenario. She had obtained a small knowledge of herbs from Sally.  She could ply him with drink and then slip something into it, just enough to make him very groggy and unawares but not enough to knock him out.  Then she could search him easily.  If he asked the next day what had happened, she could say she had not been able to raise a servant and wanted to prevent him from falling out of his chair. The plan was risky but she could see no alternative.

Or you could seduce him then search his clothes while he slept.  Marian stopped short; her mare looked around at her. What was she thinking?  She could never do such a thing, and besides, he was Vasey’s henchman, doing Vasey’s wicked bidding.  She had offered him a chance to be a better man and he had turned her down.  Yet, despite these recriminations, thoughts of a more intimate nature kept intruding. Since that night at Locksley. 

She had gone there to make peace with Guy although it rankled to do so, considering he had almost tricked her into marrying him by lying about the king’s return and then burned down her home in retaliation.  Still, she had humiliated him before the entire village at the wedding and that would not sit well with such an arrogant, proud man. She also needed to regain a measure of Guy’s trust in order to help Robin foil Vasey.  Despite her fears, she had forced herself to stick closer to Guy, but she had been  confused by her reactions to him.  Considering the way he flirted with other women, he had clearly lost interest in her.  But, Marian found that as his fascination with her waned, her fascination with him grew.  No, no, it was not fascination, but mere interest in his ongoing plots.

When she had barged into the manor that night, she had not expected to find Guy standing half undressed before the fire, fitting pieces of armor.  The sight of his rigid chest sloping down into a rock-hard midriff took her breath away.  As he dismissed his squire, she had gasped, unaware she had stopped breathing for a moment.  He had approached, standing close enough for her to feel the warmth emanating from his body.  When he had softly caressed her face, she sensed a well of heat low in her belly and she nearly gasped again, at a loss for words.  She had never before felt that way, not even with Robin; their kisses were romantic and sweet.  But this feeling was something different and a part of her yearned for more, whatever more was. The air around them crackled. His eyes shone like sapphires in the firelight. Why had she not noticed before how attractive he was?  She’d faltered and sputtered, trying collect herself.  Noticing Robin had broken the mood and she wasn’t certain whether to feel relief or chagrin.

“Milady, are you alright?”  It was the stable hand, Ewing, come to fetch Chestnut.

Marian startled out of her reverie. “Yes, yes you can take her in now.”

Ewing grinned, taking the bridle.  “I’ll finish rubbing her down.  Sir Guy is back. You know he likes extra time on Charger.”

Marian straightened.  “Sir Guy is back now?”

“Yes, milady.”

“Was he alone?”  Dare she hope?

Ewing frowned. “He didn’t have no soldiers with him milady.”

Marian inhaled sharply.  If he was alone, then he was about his own business.  Maybe she could finally get him alone. If she were to give him a sleeping draught, she needed to lay the groundwork first.

“Very well Ewing. That will be all.”

Marian turned and rushed into the darkness of the castle.

***

Marian rushed along the dark stone passageway. No windows in the interior halls lit her way, but torches set into the walls and regular intervals.  Her skirts fluttered around her legs.  She must get to her room to check her medicine box for a sleeping draught.  Hopefully she had enough or maybe she could borrow some from the cook, pleading a headache.

She turned a corner and nearly collided with Guy’s broad chest.

“Marian!” He grasped her by the shoulders, and looked down the passageway, brow furrowed with concern. “Are you all right?”

Marian tried to collect herself, all too conscious of his hands upon her.  “I’m fine.”

Guy stepped back. “Where are you going in such a hurry?”

Marian gaped for a moment. Mon Dieu, help me.  “I-I was rushing to change. I’ve been brushing Chestnut and I wanted to look more presentable.”

Guy arched a brow. “Presentable? Do we have guests?”

“Presentable for you, Guy.” Marian’s mind raced. Yes, this was the best tactic. Keep him off balance.

Guy leaned against the stone wall, arms folded, eyes wary.  “Oh, really.”

“I haven’t seen much of you this past fortnight.  I wanted us to spend some time together.” Marian added a cheeky grin. “We are friends, you remember.”

Guy’s stare was cool, but softened. “So I remember.” He gestured towards her room down the passageway. “All right, milady, I shall await you downstairs for supper. You have me for the evening.”

Marian smiled once more in relief then bobbed a mock curtsy. “Sir Guy.”

***

There wasn’t enough torchlight in heaven and earth together to light the gloom Vasey cast at meal times.  Marian wished she could take her own meals in her room, but Vasey demanded her attendance in the great hall. He enjoyed having an audience too much. But his interest waned this evening, as he saw neither Guy nor Marian rise to take the bait of his comments. As the meal progressed, his false bonhomie, slipped revealing the surliness underneath. He relentlessly stabbed at a piece of venison with his knife.

“So.” Vasey slammed down his goblet, fixing Marian with a malevolent glare. “I hear you’ve been taking care of the poor lambs at Locksley, Lady Marian.”

Marian tensed. She grasped the ornate arms of her chair. This would not end well. “Yes milord. They’ve been in need of medicines, clothes, and food.”

Vasey popped a berry into his mouth. “Really.  They seemed just fine the last time I was there.”

Marian glanced across the table at Guy, who averted his gaze. “The unusual heat caused a poor harvest.  They have but little.”

Vasey smiled, sensing he had found his mark. He spread his hands in a conciliatory gesture. “Do they not have goats, chicken, pigs, and roofs over their heads? Has everybody ‘starved’ to death?

“No, but-“

Vasey threw up his hands. “Ah then, so there you have it. They’re doing just fine. In good shape for the new taxes in a fortnight. Ha ha! You hear that Gisborne?”

Guy continued to avoid Marian’s accusing stare.  His voice was gruff. “Aye, milord.”

Vasey pushed back his chair and rose, satisfied. “Well, with that good news, I’ll leave you two to talk amongst yourselves. Good evening.”

Marian fought to rein in her temper, while Guy studied his goblet. The silence between them lengthened.

Guy was the first to break it. “Marian, let’s not fight. You know I can do nothing.”

Marian fumed.  Even if he was still unwilling to act, she was. She needed to keep her wits about her and obtain that key.  She counted to ten, then bowed her head in acquiescence.

“You’re right. There’s nothing to be gained by arguing.”

Guy raised his brows to her unexpected capitulation and inclined his head as well. “Shall we take a stroll?”

***

“Marian, have I ever said you look quite lovely in that red dress?”

They walked along the passage surrounding the castle’s torch lit inner courtyard.  The setting sun had given way to a full moon. A hint of warm southerly breeze blew at the sleeves of Marian’s gown. 

Surprised, Marian peered at Guy. He had never before paid her any compliments on her clothing. So he had noticed her at the banquet!  Of course that did not matter now, but she felt flattered nevertheless. 

“Thank you, Guy.  I didn’t know you liked red.”

“Yes, it was my mother’s favorite color. She usually had something red with her.”

Marian looked over sharply. Guy had never mentioned having any family, much less a mother.

“Your mother must have been quite a lively spirit to prefer red.”

Guy laughed. “Oh, that she was. She was a beautiful woman with light eyes and raven hair. She believed in enjoying life to the fullest. I’m sure she would have liked you.”  His smile wavered, and then he fell silent.

Marian waited for him to resume, but he seemed lost in thought. As they moved from the pool of light cast by one torch to another, she caught a look of deep sadness in his eyes.

They continued on in silence.

Marian’s emotions welled up again. She did not want to hear any more about his mother or family.  His mother would not like her drugging her son and stealing his money. She did not want to consider the possibility that he was a person with deep wounds like her, that he was human. Ah, Marian, your friendship is priceless.  She needed to know if he had the key. She had to remember it was all for the greater good.

Marian interrupted his reverie. “Guy, could you help me with something in my room?”

***

Marian pushed open her door, gesturing to a dark shelf over her cupboard. “It’s up there.  I don’t know why the servant put it up there. I can’t reach it.”

The servants had already lit the candles above the mantle and turned down her bed for the night. She glanced nervously around the room. On the small table lay a stretched needlepoint canvas and a flagon of wine.  Will you really do this?

Guy shrugged. “Call for a servant now. That’s their job.”

Marian placed a hand on his arm, eyes guileless. “Please, Guy. I don’t want to call for anybody now. It’s late and you’re here - you’re tall enough. Here, let me hold up a candle.”  She gazed anxiously up at the shelf.

Guy sighed. “Very well.”

Marian held the candle up as Guy stretched up to retrieve it, the black leather of his doublet pulling tightly over his chest. It must be there.  She raised the candle just enough to throw light upon an outline emerging against the pressing fabric – the outline of a key.  It’s on a ribbon around his neck!

“Marian, hold the candle higher - I can’t see it.”

Marian lowered the candle, steeling herself for mock surprise. “Oh! Look, it’s on the table. I suppose my servant brought it down for me while we were at dinner.”

Guy gave Marian an exasperated look as he pulled at his clothing.  “Now that you have your precious sewing, I assume that all is right with the world?”

Marian smiled sheepishly. “Sorry, Guy, but I do find embroidery relaxing in the evenings.”

Marian gestured to a chair and the flagon. It was now or never. “Can I offer you some wine to make up for things?”

Guy eyed the flagon, then turned to Marian nervously. “As much as I would like to, I shouldn’t be alone with you like this.  It’s late. The servants will talk.”

Marian stared in dismay, taken aback for a moment. Guy had no problems cutting off the hands of starving craftsmen, but he had scruples about being alone in her chamber at night. He was concerned for her reputation.

Marian gazed down at her hands, covering her confusion. “Yes, of course. I hadn’t thought.”

Guy bowed his head, speaking tenderly. “I’ll take my leave.  Goodnight, Marian.”

Marian stared into the flagon as Guy closed the door behind him.

She leaned heavily on the table.  If she was doing the right thing, why did she feel so badly?

***



Chapter 4

Marian froze, peering through the foliage ahead.  She had trod as softly as she could, but a twig snapped underfoot.  She paused in the shadow of a tree, tense - no, he hadn’t heard her.  She crept along, staying well back but keeping eye on Guy’s black, leather-clad figure.  He moved faster, occasionally glancing around him, probably on the lookout for Robin’s gang.  He had no clue that Robin was away on his own mission.  She quickened her pace through the sun-dappled forest, wiping a droplet of sweat from her eye.  The forest was unusually warm this season.  Where was he heading?

Marian felt exhilarated.  She told herself that the chase was causing her quickening heartbeat, that it was the possibility of discovering Guy’s plan that sent a thrill down her spine. Yes, it was all about the chase.  She gathered her skirt higher, stepping over the bramble and fallen twigs. His long legs carried him faster than her own shorter ones allowed her to follow.  She hurried.

Try as she might, Marian would not let herself think too hard about her actions, or why she was following him like this.  She had been trailing him for a week when he went out about his business.  She had not known what to do following the failed attempt to slip him the sleeping draught. She had noticed he was especially secretive once a week, and she wondered if he was double-crossing the Sheriff in some nefarious scheme.  She felt a prickle of pleasure at the idea that Guy might not be as attached to Vasey as she had supposed.  In fact, she felt prickles of pleasure more and more often in Guy’s company.  Ever since that night at Locksley Manor.  When she had been close enough to feel him, to touch his lea,n bare chest –

The sound of a loud splash brought Marian back to the present.  Tense, she stopped short, stepped through a bank of trees into the glaring sunlight and nearly plunged into the water before grabbing for a nearby branch.  She pulled herself back into the darkness of the trees and sat for a moment, her heart pounding in her ears.  Carefully, she pushed aside a branch and peered through the opening.  Guy had found a small pond. Marian almost laughed. So, this was it; he came here every week to swim?  In that case, it would be easy to find his clothes and grab the key.  This could be the chance for which she had been waiting.

She heard the gurgle of an unseen waterfall and more splashing.  Craning her neck through the trees, she spotted Guy part swimming, part wading around a bend, the amount of splashing indicated his enjoyment.  Using the trees as cover, Marian stealthily followed the sound along the bank.  She tugged a branch aside and froze, the key forgotten.

Guy stood under a small waterfall bathing with aloe leaves. Marian stood transfixed as the water cascaded over his dark locks, past his broad shoulders, and down his lithe form. He rubbed the leaves across his muscular chest, his movements slowing as he paused to rub each nipple. His eyes closed.  The leaves slipped from his fingers as he lingeringly caressed them before sliding his hands down his tight stomach.  Marian's eyes drank in the sight, following the journey his hands made with her eyes until both settled at what they found nestled in a thatch of dark curls at the juncture of his thighs.  Now, she gasped.

Marian had seen cocks before on animals and small boys, but never on a grown man at his peak.  She couldn’t tear her eyes away from the length and breadth of him. Her mouth went dry.  She watched as Guy's hands traveled even further, down - around his cock and along his thighs.  A sigh escaped her lips as he returned his attention to his manhood, grasping it firmly.  His head dipped for a moment, dark locks falling across his eyes before he lifted his face again to the cascading water.  Eyes closing again, he stood still, then began caressing himself, slowly.  The tip of his tongue emerged tantalizingly, to lick away water from his lips. 

Flushed, Marian grasped the nearby tree for support.  Her heart raced.  She should look away; she should leave - but she could do neither. She tried to remember his despicable deeds, to think of her feelings on the night that he had burned down her house but such thoughts fled.  She had never admitted to herself the dreams she had of him, the curiosity about him under those tight leather breeches, and now the sight of him before her was too much.  Heat seemed to coalesce and descend to her loins.  Marian found her hand pressing between her legs through the thin material of her skirt.  She rubbed as he stroked, yearning for something, though not knowing what.  Marian felt a coil tightening in her lower belly and she pushed harder as Guy’s hand moved.  She needed to be closer.  She needed – she needed- what? 

Guy stroked his shaft from root to tip with one hand and caressed his balls with the other. His hand moved with strong measured strokes.  His head tipped back again, his face alight with pleasure.  His hand moved faster.  The other hand moved up to pinch a nipple.  He panted now, chest heaving, face creased in concentration. He moaned. His hand stroked still faster, almost brutally; his body tensed like a bow. Finally he threw his head back with a loud, satisfied groan.

Marian moaned in frustration, skirt clenched in her fists, as she realized Guy was done.  He stood for a while, his breathing easing.  He lazily ran his fingers through his hair while the waterfall cascaded through it, then he ducked under the pond.  When he broke the surface, he looked straight in Marian’s direction.  A smirk bent his lips.

“Did you enjoy watching that?”

Marian stilled.  Surely he could not have seen her? She pulled farther back into the shadows.

“Marian, if you’re going to spy, you shouldn’t wear a red frock.”

Marian could almost feel the blood rushing from her head.  She felt faint as Guy stood and waded towards her.  She couldn’t move.  Oh, he was magnificent.  Guy stood an arm’s length away by the pond’s edge looking up. Cool blue eyes regarded her wrinkled skirt.  Water glistened on his body, streaming from his hair unto his neck and down, down to -

“Would you like to join me?” he asked. An arm reached for her.

In an instant, despite the desire still pooled at her center, Marian knew she couldn’t.  She had her honor.  She had Robin to consider. Would you like to join me? Oh yes.

Marian ran, chased by the sound of Guy’s amused laughter ringing in her ears.

***

 

Chapter 5

Over the next few days, Marian felt herself on pins and needles every time she glimpsed Guy in the castle.  She had kept to her room, sewing clothes for her father and staying out of Guy’s way while she tried to regain control of her turbulent emotions.  Since the embarrassing scene at the pond, she had not known how to face him.  Perhaps she should upbraid him for his-less-than-gentlemanly behavior, or maybe she should pretend nothing happened.

She sat by the sunlit, oil-papered window, making tiny stitches in the shirt, before throwing it down, unable to concentrate. Most disturbingly, she could not face her own actions.  How could she criticize Guy when she had behaved just as badly?  She could not understand what had come over her, why she did not leave but stayed to watch, stoking her own desires to such a feverish pitch.  She could not seem to remember Guy, the Sheriff’s henchman, because Guy the man blotted everything out. When she closed her eyes at night, she could not stop seeing him, dreaming of him. Bathing under the waterfall, water cascading over him as he caressed his body and reached down to –

She heard a rap on her door. Marian rose and bade the servant to enter.

Instead, Guy stepped in.  They stared at each other in silence.

Marian blushed. So he would take the bull by the horns, after all?

Guy began, tentative. “Marian, are you well?

She stared, cold.  “I’m quite well.  Why do you ask?”

“I’ve not seen much of you around the castle.  I wondered whether you had taken ill.”

Marian bristled. “Well, as you can see, I’m fine.  Now if you’ll excuse me, I have sewing I wish to finish.”

Guy sighed, taking a step forward. “Marian, I hope this is not about the other day.  - I knew you had been following me and I assumed you knew about the pond.”  He paused, arching a brow at her red, closed face.  The corners of his mouth twitched.  “I saw the way you watched me. And the way you wanted me -.” His eyes drifted down to her skirt, as if he was remembering her desperate motions.

Marian retreated to moral indignation. The nerve! “Guy, you forget.  I’m not one of your wenches or wayward wives! I would never have intruded had I known.”

“Yes, I saw how shocked you were.” A full smirk won out on his face.

“Sir Guy!”

He crossed the room in a few steps. His eyes burned. “Marian, stop lying to yourself.”

This time, it was Marian who was off balance. Guy stood close enough to feel his breath on waft over her face. Her mind whirled. His shoulders loomed impossibly wide as he stood over her.  She took in the scent of sweat, leather, and horse. His lips were very so close.

He caressed her face, his blue eyes intense. “I know what you did, why you did it.  There’s nothing to be afraid of. Desire is natural.  I feel the same for you. I always have.”

Mesmerized by the deep rumble of his voice, the fierce passion in his eyes, Marian felt his touch burn her, set her ablaze.  A point of heat returned to settle in her lower belly. Her face lifted to his almost on its own volition. Yes.

His lips covered hers, first tenderly, then more intently. A tongue gently pushed her lips apart, then swirled deliciously inside. Marian’s mind spun as the kiss deepened.  The heat grew and flamed into desire. Yes, yes, she wanted him.

Marian snaked her arms around his neck, entwining her fingers in his dark locks. He held her tightly to him. His hands slid to down her buttocks to press her closer, so she could feel his hardness.  She wanted to get closer, to press against every lean ridge of him, but instead felt an unyielding object jut against her chest – the key. The key!  The realization hit her like a pail of cold water. Don’t forget the mission!  She broke the kiss and stepped back.

Guy grasped her arms, confused. “What’s wrong?”

Marian struggled to collect herself.  What was she doing?  She had to get the key but at what price?  What did it matter? She was engaged, but acting like an animal in heat with Vasey’s henchman. So what?  She must keep her wits about her and stay focused.  Guy was supposed to be off balance, not she. She loved Robin and she wanted to marry him. Marian, stop lying to yourself.

Marian retreated. “This is too much, too fast.  I don’t know what I want.”

Guy turned away, bitter. “Oh, I see. I thought you’d come to care for me, that you wanted me. And after these past few weeks, and the waterfall--, heh, of course you don’t.”

Marian froze. No, this was ruining everything, the friendship she so carefully had cultivated. Now was not the time to break with Guy.  She needed the key.  She needed him.

“Guy, no, you don’t understand. I’m not- experienced - like you.  I-I’m not ready.  I need time.”  She wrung her hands.

Guy turned back, his face for a moment naked with a mixture of pain, fear, and hope. “So, you do care? You do want me?”

Marian licked her lips.  Oh yes. Could she salvage the situation? “Guy, I feel something for you, but I’m not sure what.  I’m just too confused.  Please, give me time to think.”

Guy stared intently; head lifted proudly, eyes unreadable.  Then he nodded, acceding some ground.  “Yes, this probably has been too much for a lady like you.  - Fair enough. I’ll wait.” 

He inclined his head and was gone.

***

Chapter 6

Marian lay in her bed, on the edge of collapse. She pushed off the bedclothes; it was way too hot tonight.  She wished she had someone in whom she could confide.  Her father and Robin certainly would not have been options, even in the best of times. She had no close female friends.  Who could she talk to about this desire that threatened to consume her and destroy her long-laid plans?  Her only purpose in seeking Guy’s friendship was to allow her to spy on him for Robin. Now, if she were honest, she felt no real allegiance to Robin. He had been away more years than she had known him. They had been betrothed at a young age. They cared for each other and it was expected they marry.  Yet, when Robin had returned from the Holy Land, their affection felt to her as if they were brother and sister. No grand passion had ever burned between them. Certainly nothing like the emotion between her and Guy.

But Guy was the Sheriff’s lieutenant.  He carried out Vasey’s orders, no matter how reprehensible. Although before, she had thought Guy as vile as the Sherriff, she now realized Guy believed that he had little choice but to obey Vasey. Surely, a way out could be found for him.  If only she could get Guy to understand that by being a better man, he could win against Vasey – they together could win against Vasey. But if Guy stood against her, how could she contemplate any kind of future with him?  She would never turn her back on her people.  But her feelings for Guy caused unwanted scruples about acting behind his back.

She tossed and turned.  She could do nothing about the new tax and still live to fight another day.  Other battles would appear to be fought, other taxes to sabotage. She sighed.  She could not do that. Taking no action was unthinkable.

Oh, what a muddle she had made of this!

She twisted heavily onto her back.  She had to make a decision.  Tax collection would begin the day after tomorrow.

***

The moonlight illuminated Guy’s bed chamber just enough for Marian to see. Its design was familiar to her, as was most of Locksley manor.  She had slipped out of the castle easily in the small hours on Charger, as she had done many times before as the Nightwatchman.  The village lay asleep, just as she had hoped. Since the great hall windows had been left open to the cooling night breeze, gaining entry posed no problem. The servants all lay abed.  The silence was so complete that she fancied she could hear the boards of the house settling.

Marian paused, glancing over at the big bed.  Upon it, Guy lie asleep, as she knew he would.  He always retreated to Locksley whenever Vasey lapsed into his ominous silent periods, as he had tonight.  She entered, and quietly closed the door.  Where was that key?

A cursory glance from the door revealed no mounds of clothes. She skirted the bed and checked the far side of the room nearest the window. On the floor lay a black shirt, a leather jacket and breeches.  She picked up the shirt, feeling for the key and casting furtive glances at the sleeping figure. It wasn’t there. 

She stood, fully gazing at Guy’s sleeping form for the first time.  His hair fanned around the pillow, and his face, relaxed for once, betrayed a hint of vulnerability. His lips parted slightly as his eyes moved in his dream. Her eyes slid down the exposed length of his neck to his bare chest and lean midriff.  She supposed he must have lain down and fallen asleep as he still had on the leather breeches.  Oh, he is magnificent. She sighed, the shirt sliding unbidden from her fingers.

“Marian?” Guy lifted his head, eyes clouded with sleep, but suddenly alert. 

He was awake! Her heart thudded.  It’s now, Marian. This is it.

“Marian, is that really you?”

“Yes Guy, it’s really me.”

“I thought I was dreaming.”  He sat up. “What are you doing in here?”

Marian hoped Guy could not see her blushing.  She lifted a hand and undid the laces at the gown’s back, tugging it down, and letting it drop, to reveal a sheer shift.  “I’ve decided.”

Guy reached out, pulling her to him. “You are so beautiful.”

He buried his face between her breasts and held her close, almost in an attitude of prayer. She stood, running her fingers through his hair, and remained still, not wanting to break the moment.

“Are you sure about this?”

She felt the heat of his breath through her thin shift.  Marian knew after coming here tonight, there was no turning back.  “I’m sure.”

He pulled her onto his lap, covering her face in soft kisses, then drawing his mouth down her neck to the opening of her shift.  She sighed at the gentleness of his touch, as his lips flitted across her skin.

“Marian, he whispered, “Marian.”

Her name sounded like a quiet exultation. Marian realized he truly cherished her. Maybe he always had.  Guy. This feeling was what she had wanted from Robin but never gotten.  It had been Guy -- all the time.

Guy rose to his feet, bringing Marian with him.  Looking intently into her eyes, he undid the shift’s ties and pushed it from her shoulders.  Marian suddenly felt overcome with modesty, as if not only her body, but her soul, too, had been laid bare under his intense gaze.  Her hands fluttered to cover herself but Guy stopped them. 

“No, never do that.  You are beautiful. I want to see all of you.” His eyes roved over every inch of her before locking with her own. “So very beautiful.”

He lifted her into his arms and laid her on the bed, never breaking his gaze. Marian felt as if she were falling into his sapphire eyes. Why didn’t I notice how beautiful they are?

He lay beside her, raining more insistent kisses on her face and neck before finally claiming her mouth, tasting her lips.  She moaned as his tongue quickly gained admittance, swirling, probing, and deepening the kiss. He coaxed her to do the same as her tongue slipped between his lips. She lost in the pleasure of his mouth.  It was never like this with Robin.  That familiar heat returned to settle in her belly. She wanted the kiss never to end.

Guy lifted his head, a faint smile crossing his lips. He surprised her by pressing deliberate kisses down her neck, followed by gentle nips of his teeth.  He trailed his mouth down her chest and around the mounds of her breasts before taking a pink nipple into his mouth. His hand began to stroke from her breast, down her side, belly, and thigh to stop just short of where she wanted him most to touch.  She gasped as pleasure shot to her core and heat burst out, suffusing her body. She caught fire as he licked and sucked first one peak and then the other. She threw her arms around him drawing him closer, pressing herself to him, mindlessly grinding against a leather clad leg. 

“Guy, I- I- please…Guy…” Marian panted, digging her nails into Guy’s shoulders.  She burned.  She moaned as the pleasure intensified.  Again that familiar coil began to tighten in her core as it had at the pond. She needed…she needed more…

“Shhhh, it’s all right.”  His fingers found her center and he began to stroke the delicate nub. Parting her inner lips, he slipped first one finger inside and then another, gently stroking, stretching.  His lips returned to suckling her breasts.

Marian gave herself up to pleasure. She had never felt anything like it. As the waves swelled, consuming her, the coil compressed, tightened like a spring until finally it broke and waves of the most intense feeling washed over her.  She cried out, bucking against him.

Guy stroked her forehead and hair, whispering soothing endearments as Marian calmed and stilled.  Then he unfolded himself from her grasp to stand by the bed. “Would you like to do the honors?” He pointed to the laces on his breeches.

Marian gulped. She could see the swell of his manhood, straining against the leather.  Her mind went back to the day at the pond when she had watched him from the bank, pleasuring himself.  Now – now it was all for her. She slowly undid the laces, pushing the leather from his hips to pool at his feet.  His shaft sprang from its prison.  The length and width of him were exactly as she had remembered. She reached out a hand in curiosity and marveled – his cock was both silky soft and hard as rock to the touch. A drop glistened on the tip and she reached out her tongue to taste. Guy hissed between clenched teeth.

Marian pulled back, concerned. “Did I do something wrong?”

Guy smiled. “Oh no, that was perfect. Now my dear, lie back.”

Straddling her, he paused.  “Marian, you do know what happens, don’t you?”

Marian bit her lips and nodded “I’ve heard the servant girls talking.”

“It always hurts the first time, but I’ll gentle as I can. Do you trust me?”

Marian grinned cheekily. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

Guy smiled then covered her body with his.  Drawing her into his arms, he covered her face with more kisses before entering her with one deep stroke.  Hearing her gasp, he held himself still until her quivers subsided.  Then slowly, he began moving in gentle strokes.  He watched her face for signs of discomfort. When her face began to flush, he changed to stronger measured thrusts. As the pain receded, Marian felt desire returning, pooling in her core. Unbidden, she began to move with him, again searching for that release.  She found that she reveled in the feel of his hard body against hers, his manhood buried inside, stretching her.  She bucked against him faster as his thrusts deepened, quickened until they both reached the pinnacle and sailed over -- together.

***

Marian lay half entwined in Guy’s arms, listening to the rhythm of his breath. He was asleep, his face peaceful. She had heard what it could be like between a man and woman, but this had surpassed her wildest dreams.  She never imagined herself a lusty female, but it appeared Guy brought that out in her.  She shifted to a more comfortable position.  It was a moment before she realized something small and hard pressed into back of her neck. Turning her head, she saw the end of key attached to a red ribbon.  The key. It had been under the pillow!

Marian’s emotions warred within her.  He had asked whether she trusted him. He should have asked, instead, whether he could trust her.  Did she love him? She did not know. But she knew whatever her feelings, she had to do the right thing. The villagers needed her, no matter what.  Gently disengaging herself from Guy’s arms, she slowly pulled the ribbon and key from under the pillow, donned her shift and slipped from the room. 

The chest rested in the same spot on the study’s cupboard.  With a turn of the key, it opened easily, revealing a bit less gold than Marian recalled during Guy’s proposal.  Was he making purchases of which the Sheriff had no knowledge?  She removed just enough coins not to arouse suspicion, placing them in her pouch.  The little bag had enough heft and bulk not to be disguisable in her tightly-laced clothing.  She would have to find a safe place until she could retrieve it.  Her eyes roamed the study’s shelves -- too risky. She moved downstairs, searching for a good spot. Finally her eyes fell upon the long bin that held wood for the fireplace.  No one would touch that in this heat.  She stashed the pouch underneath the logs. Satisfied, she crept back to bed.



Chapter 7

The crowing cock startled Marian awake. She had overslept, having intended to say her goodbyes to Guy before slipping out with the pouch before dawn.  There goes your reputation, Marian.  Guy stirred beside her. 

A maid rapped sharply, entering with a tray.  She jumped at the sight, as Marian rushed to cover herself.  “OH! Excuse me milord – I didn’t know- so sorry.”  She ducked her head, bobbed an awkward curtsy, and fled.

Guy sat up, chuckling.  “You would expect she’d seen a ghost.”

Marian covered her face, groaning. “She saw me.  I would expect the whole house will know as we speak!”

Guy turned to her, suddenly serious. “Marian, you know I wish to take you as my wife, don’t you? We can be married by a priest as soon as possible.”

Marian sat up as well.  Marriage! She hadn’t thought that far last night but it was the inescapable conclusion. All of Nottingham would know she was damaged goods. Her reputation was ruined. But did she really want to marry Vasey’s lieutenant?

She swallowed, placing a hand on his arm.  “I know you do. Let us talk of this later.”

Guy studied her for a moment, eyes wary.  He sighed, embracing her.  “All right then, but not too much later. I will have my answer, woman.”  He frowned in mock sternness, kissed her forehead, and flung off the covers.

“I should go find Thornton. By the looks of it, that silly maid won’t be back. We need something to break our fast.”  He laced up his breeches, bellowing for Thornton as he left.

Making sure the key found its way safely back under the pillow, Marian rose to dress.  She could smuggle the pouch out of the house while Guy was in the kitchen!  She had poised her foot on the top stair when she heard footfalls and the murmur of voices below. She gripped the bannister and crouched, peering through the rails. Guy and Thornton talked quietly in the hall, heads together in an attitude of conspiracy. She groaned inwardly. Had Guy now enlisted Thornton in the Sheriff’s wicked schemes?

“…arrangements are already in place.”

“So, he knows, milord?”

Guy placed a small black pouch in Thornton’s hand.  It jingled. “Yes, just remind him to distribute it among the villagers. I trust him to know who will not be able to meet the tax. Do it quickly now.  You must not be seen.”

“Aye milord.”  With a nod, Thornton slipped the bag underneath his loose jerkin and headed toward the kitchen.

Marian could not believe her eyes, her mind whirled.  Had she just seen Guy give Thornton money to give the villagers? He was using his own coin to pay the tax shortfalls; he aimed not to carry out Vasey’s orders, but to secretly work against them!  Guy was striving to be a better man, but she had been blind to his efforts. Marian pondered the enormity of her discovery.  He could be the kind of man she wanted, a man of honor. If only she had known.  Her spirits soared, then crashed, as the reality of her own situation intruded. Her pouch!  She had to put the money back! The money you stole. 

“Marian, what are you doing?  I’ve requested a meal be brought up to us.” Guy headed up the staircase towards her.

“I- I was fixing the lace on my shoe.” Tugging sharply, the lace snapped. “See, it’s broken.”

Guy held out a hand as she rose to her feet.  “When we are married, you shall have many laces for many shoes.” He smiled, a wicked gleam in his eyes.  “Shall we return to bed?”

Marian nodded and followed, glancing back to the wood bin.  She gulped.  The money you stole.

***

The morning dragged for Marian as she and Guy lay in bed against the pillows eating their repast.  She played the happy lover for him but inwardly, her guts churned. She made pleasant small talk, pleading a headache when she ate little. How could she retrieve that pouch, with Guy obviously content to remain by her side today?  This playful man beside her was different from the cold, gruff one she had known for so long. His blue eyes teased and he smiled more. Once, he had said there was more to him than she thought. She understood that now.

A rap came at the door.  The young maid entered, looking sheepish. “Beggin’ your pardon, milord, but there’s a soldier downstairs.  He says he has a message from the castle.”

Guy’s face shuttered; he was at once-, again the lieutenant.  He frowned, rising to put on a shirt.  “Tell him I shall be down in a moment.”

Marian sighed.  “I suppose I should return to the castle now.”

Guy paused for a moment as he buckled the straps on his jacket, eyes serious.  “Remember, Marian. We can be married at any time. You need only say the word.”

She nodded.  Yes, you shall take a thief for a wife. 

He held out a hand. “Shall we?”

***

Thornton emerged just as Guy and Marian arrived downstairs.  “Sorry, milord, I wasn’t aware the soldier was here.  I was – detained.”

Guy waved a dismissive hand. “Never mind, Thornton. That will be all.”

Marian glanced curiously at Thornton’s retreating back.  If he worked with Guy to help the villagers, then perhaps he could help her out of this predicament.  She really had no choice but enlist his help.

“Excuse me, Sir Guy,  maybe the cook has a headache draught. I’ll leave you to your business.” She hurried after Thornton, waylaying him in the kitchen’s larder.

“Milady?”

Marian whispered so the cook would not overhear.  “Thornton, you’ve known me since childhood haven’t you?”

‘Indeed, milady.”

“You saved me from my father when I did naughty things then.” She wrung her hands. “Well, I’ve done a terrible thing now.”

Thornton smiled gently.  “Really? You, milady?”

Marian quickly explained the situation, how she had wanted to save the villagers from the new tax, how she had schemed and stolen money from Guy’s chest, and finally how she had overhead his conversation with Guy earlier.

Thornton’s smile disappeared.  He sniffed disapprovingly.  “I see.”

“Thornton, please! I didn’t want to steal from Guy but I had no choice.  I never would have done it had I known.  Now I need to put it back before he finds out anything is missing.”

“Milady, you were not to know. Nobody must know.  If the Sheriff gets wind of this, heads will roll including mine and the Master’s.”

Marian grabbed his arm.  “I assure you, your secret is safe with me. I will tell no one. Now, please, will you help me?  And you mustn’t tell Guy. He might never forgive me. You know how he can be.”

He sighed, knowing all too well the fury of his master’s wrath. “You always were a headstrong child. What can I do?”

Marian felt a weight falling from her shoulders. “The pouch is in the wood bin.  I need to you get him out of the house for a few minutes.”

Thornton nodded. “I’ll create a distraction.”

She smiled, kissing his cheek. “Thank you.”

***

Marian entered the hall just as Guy dismissed the soldier.

Marian felt a stab of hope. “Are you returning to the castle?”

Guy smirked. “No.  It seems you were missed. I was to start a search for you. But since you’ve clearly been found, there’s no need. How fortunate to have brought you here.” He smiled. “And as it so happens, I have the day free.  I see no reason to return you to the castle just yet.”

Marian grinned back.  “Indeed.”  So close.

Guy looked inquiringly at Marian’s empty hands.  “Did you find the draught?”

“Yes, the cook had some.  She’s made some wonderful mead. Have you tried it?  Marian prayed that Thornton still stood nearby listening. Please Thornton, make it good.

Guy pulled a face. “I prefer something a bit stronger. But if you like it, it’s all yours.”

Thornton appeared on cue.  “Excuse me, milord, but may I have a moment? I require money for supplies to repair the roof.”

Guy scowled. “More problems? This house sucks money like a babe does a tit. We’ll discuss it later. Leave us.”

Thornton persisted “I’m sorry, milord, but this is urgent.”

Guy growled impatiently. “Urgent? It had better be.  Show me. Excuse me, Marian.”

Marian counted to twenty, giving Thornton sufficient time to lead Guy outside and around the house to inspect the manor’s large roof. She went to the wood bin, retrieved the pouch, then rushed upstairs for the key.  Once she had dumped the coins into the chest, she locked it with click.  Done!  She rushed to the bed chamber and had just replaced the key under the pillow when Guy entered the room.

“Marian, what are you doing up here?”  He stood in the doorway, eyes unreadable.

Marian jumped. Mon Dieu! Think, THINK!  “You do have cat’s feet, Guy. I was tending to the bed.”

Guy approached, eyes veiled. “Tending to the bed? Since when does a woman of noble rank make a bed?”

Marian smiled, her lips curling in a wicked smile. Time to put the maids’ gossip to good use. “I wasn’t making it, I was unmaking it.” She cozied up to Guy, swinging her hips coquettishly.  “And since we have time together…”

Guy peered into her eyes before chuckled. “Well, as they say, idle hands are the devil’s workshop.”  He kissed her.

Marian reached for the buckles on his leather jacket. “They do say that.  Well, then, we must make haste.”

Marian quickly removed his jacket and shirt, getting to the silky smooth chest underneath. Guy stood patiently, letting her run her fingers over the soft skin covering his shoulders to the lean hard muscles of his chest and down his belly. He felt so good to the touch. She needed to feel, smell, and taste more. His leather breeches followed in short order.  She sank to her knees, her caresses following along his hips and buttocks and down to his thighs and calves. His manhood swelled under her attention.  She watched, rapt, as it rose to brush her lips. Recalling his pleasure before, she grasped the shaft, licking the tip. His breath hitched.  Encouraged, she trailed her tongue along his length then swirled it around the tip.  He moaned, brushing his fingers across her lips to open them wide.  Taking the tip into her mouth, she licked and sucked, encouraged by his increasing moans.  Finally, he pulled away.

“No more. Now it’s my turn to please you.” Guy removed her dress and shift, then bade her sit on the side of the bed. Kneeling between her thighs, he trailed kisses from her breasts down to her belly. He nipped at her belly and teased her navel before moving still lower, hands stroking her thighs.  Spreading her wide, he dragged his tongue along her inner lips before swirling it around the delicate bud. Marian moaned, falling back onto the bed.  She clutched at the sheets, lost in the exquisite feeling. He continued the motions, licking, nipping, and swirling until the burning heat became too much and she cried out, her hips jolting under his mouth.

Guy rose to his feet. Grabbing her thighs, he entered her with one deep thrust. He pulled out completely before driving in again, hard. Marian gasped as he plunged again and again, reveling in the feel of him.  She thrashed and cried out in pleasure as he went on, impaling her, driving them both to dizzying heights, until she screamed her release and he followed shortly afterwards. Panting, they climbed back into the bed, pulling over the covers.  Entwined in each other’s arms, they softly kissed until sated, they fell asleep.



Chapter 8

The day after the new tax collection, the heat wave broke.  So did the Sheriff’s temper, after he heard no shortfall had been incurred by the peasants. He ranted, interrogated Guy closely, but could find nothing on which to base his suspicions.  Sourly, he dismissed Guy and stormed from the castle to vent his rage in a day of hunting.

Marian strolled with Guy around the castle ramparts.  She tugged her cloak tighter around her as a sharp northerly wind blew. She took in the beautiful vista of the Nottingham countryside, transformed by the autumn shades of orange, red, and yellow. 

They paused to admire the view, an uncomfortable silence looming between them.

Guy began. “Marian, have you given any thought-?”

Marian turned to peer up at him. She thought of her own actions, and his, over the past several weeks. We cannot have this between us. She interrupted. “Guy, we need to talk.”

He looked away, eyes hooded, tone brusque. “Yes, what do you want to say?”

Marian glanced over her shoulder, assured they were alone and whispered, “I know about you and Thornton, what you did for the villagers.”

He turned back to her, eyes cold.  “And how did you learn this? Thornton was sworn to secrecy!”

She reached out a hand to calm him. “It’s not Thornton’s fault.  I overheard you two that morning talking about it. Why didn’t you tell me? I could have helped.”

Guy snorted. “What, and put you at risk?  The more people involved, the higher the danger of the Sherriff or even Hood finding out. You must understand that.  I couldn’t tell you.”

She closed her eyes, feeling a scoundrel.  While she had vilified and thought the worst things possible about him, Guy had had been helping the villagers honorably and protecting her in the bargain.  How honorable are you, Marian?  She had to be truthful with him. They could not hope to have any real relationship built on lies and deceit.  If this meant the end of things, then so be it.

Marian bit lip, turned and walked a few steps.  She needed distance between them. The intense light in his eyes seared her. “Guy, there’s something I must tell you.”

He inhaled sharply. “What, something more?”

Marian looked down at her hands. “Guy, I can’t marry you.”

She again held out a hand as he swung around, nostrils flaring, rage and frustration clearly building in his face. “Please listen, I can’t marry you because I’m not the kind of woman you think me.  I’ve been deceitful!” She looked at him fearfully, prepared for the onslaught.

Guy’s head reared up, eyes wide.  He stared and then slowly began to smirk. “Oh, you mean when you took the key to my chest and stole my coins?” 

Marian’s mouth fell open.  He knew?  She struggled to collect her wits.  “You – you knew?”

Guy turned to stare into the distance. The wind ruffled his hair. “Well, I knew something was wrong when you failed to argue with me after that dinner with Vasey. It wouldn’t have been like you simply to do nothing.  Then the to-do about the sewing was curious - I’ve never known you to embroider before, Marian. Didn’t you once say that was for empty-headed lasses? 

Marian sighed. Yes she had. That he had been paying so close attention to her utterances astounded her.

He closed the distance between them, softly caressing her cheek. “Although you fulfilled my wildest dreams, I had to think why you would sneak into my house like a thief and into my bed.  Such a beautiful thief.”

Dropping his hand, he stepped away. “My suspicions grew when Thornton interrupted us with that ‘urgent’ roof business, rather than approaching me at the usual appointed time for such matters.  Then, I found you’d suddenly taken to maid’s work and you were plumping the pillow where the key lay. Later I confronted Thornton and he finally told me. He pleaded your case, and asked me to forgive you. He’s quite fond of you, you know.”

Marian bowed her head, contrite. “Now you see why I can’t marry you.  I wanted so much to help my people, but I lied and stole from you in order to do it.  I’m so sorry Guy. If only I had known. If only I had understood the man you really are, a man of compassion. Oh, what a terrible mistake I made!”

You’ve been such a fool. Now she would lose a man she had found she could truly care for, a man she could love. She pulled the hood of her cloak closer, waiting for the recriminations to come.

“Look at me, Marian.”

Reluctant, Marian looked up, looking for the accusation in his eyes, but finding none.  He gazed down at her, intent and wary.

“I need to you to answer me one question: did you lie when you said you cared for me, that you wanted me?”

Marian shook her head in earnest. “No, no that wasn’t a lie.  I do care for you.  I think I have ever since that night at Locksley when I asked for your friendship. I’ve not been able to stop thinking about you, to stop wanting you.”

Guy sighed in relief and embraced her. “Then that’s all I need to know. That’s all I want. I know why you did what you did.  You’ve always loved the villagers and didn’t want to see them starve.  Neither do I.  You had the choice of keeping the money, but you didn’t; -- you put it back. I’m willing to believe that counts for something, my love.”  He paused. “And besides, I have committed far worse sins.”

Marian stared. Was this the same Guy, Vasey’s henchman? Who was he? She had a lot to learn about this side of him.

“So.” Guy kissed Marian’s forehead. “I don’t see any just cause why we should not be joined in holy wedlock.  Do you?”

Marian smiled and kissed him. No, no she didn’t.



FIN